The Calendar of Postiness

Smashing Through The Snow, Ever So Slowly

It’s been, like, a million years since I was last able to leave our house. I remember it so clearly. My grandmother and I went to BigLots, because she had wanted to go there.

Then it happened.

Not the snow. No, that would happen days after. Christmas happened. I remember Christmas, though vaguely. It was around five o’ clock, and I get out of bed. Notice I do not say “wake up.” This is because I had been unable to sleep due to stomach pains which left me throwing up more than what I had assumed would have been in my entire digestive system at that time of night. Well, morning, at that point. I went back to my peaceful bed, retching all the way, oh what fun it is to puke at night and then all day, hey! I spent the rest of the day retching violently and listening to everybody watching football. I was, unfortunately, unable to retrieve my newly-gotten iPod. I basically took trips between the bathroom, my mother’s bed, and a book on the Ford Mustang I’d gotten that day.

At the end of the day, I got out my new keyboard. But I digress, you see, because it is, like, Day 5 or 4 or 8 or something of Being Snowed In. A foot has fallen, perhaps more on the way, and I of course know not what to do. Being from New Mexico, I generally consider “a good snowfall” to be one inch, perhaps more in more polar climates like Alaska, so when a foot falls, well, everything shuts down. New Mexicans believe that if there is snow on the ground, everybody should stay indoors until at least May, and then only if it is sufficiently warm to set cows on fire.

They have shut down the schools, which is wise, in my opinion, considering the student drivers I encounter daily, who do not so much “drive” as “smash” through other cars, trucks, pedestrians, etc. With ice around, perhaps five students would arrive at school alive, perhaps with as many as three limbs intact. So I think it’s wise. I think.

Luigiville, on the other hand, is quite alive, in the sense that my little dead plastic people are standing on the streets, looking vigilant and happy. They would pop a cap in your ass if you looked at them funny, but they’d do it with a big happy smile on their face. I’m going to bring them to life as soon as I figure out how. Until then, they will continue standing around, bored, happy-looking, probably suffering from extreme leg cramping.

Until then…

Smashing through the snowIn a One Something SomethingGoing to the LooPuking All the WayHey